


Children’s Jewelry

by walking_tornado



Series: WC Missing Scenes [10]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Alternate Scene, Episode: s3e02 Where There's a Will, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 13:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10101953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walking_tornado/pseuds/walking_tornado
Summary: It wasn’t a great idea to entrust the key to the family fortune to a four-year-old.  (Alternate scene for White Collar 3.02, Where There’s a Will)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for wc_rewatch

**Brett:** _I'm not bringing Savannah to you._

**Neal:** _Then just the bracelet._

**Brett:** _You think I'm an idiot?_

**Neal:** _Come on, Brett. We know who you are. And we know from your video feed that you don't want to hurt Savannah. The brothers just want to settle this quickly and quietly. You know how eccentric Roland was. Bring us her anklet and you'll get your money._

***

“Anklet?” Brett sounded incredulous, and Neal couldn’t really blame him. 

“Brett?” Neal said after a moment. The FBI tech manning the equipment shook his head. 

James, Savannah’s father, brought both hands up to cover his face. “Oh God! He hung up!” His brother Josh put a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“It’s okay,” Neal told them, hoping it was true. “He’s just trying to formulate a new—” 

Everyone turned their heads as one to look at the phone which had begun to ring. At the nod from the FBI tech, Neal picked up the receiver, but Brett began speaking before he had even said hello. 

“What kind of games are you playing at! She doesn’t have a goddamned bracelet or anklet or whatever! Get me my money, and quit fucking around, or you won’t see the girl again!” 

“Wait!” Neal said, trying to catch the man’s attention before he hung up. “What do you mean, she doesn’t have the bracelet? What happened to it?” 

“How the hell am I supposed to know? Maybe she lost it, or it broke—she doesn’t have on a fucking bracelet! I’m not stupid—what kind of idiot gives the key to a fortune to a four-year-old? Stop playing me. You’re going to get her killed.” The dial tone had a finality that made Neal’s skin crawl, and any remaining color had drained from the brothers’ faces. 

It took Peter forever to answer his phone. 

“Neal?” 

“Please tell me you’re close.” 

“Two minutes away.” 

“Careful,” Neal said. He turned away from the others and lowered his voice so it wouldn’t carry. “Brett sounded . . . desperate. He’s being backed into a corner, Peter.” 

“Okay. Got it,” Peter said, and Neal could picture Peter’s lips thin on his granite face as he resolved once more that nothing would happen to the child. “Keep working on the treasure hunt,” Peter added. _Just in case we’re wrong about Brett’s location_. The unsaid words were crystal clear. 

Neal pocketed his phone and turned back to the brothers. “Tell me about the anklet. When did your father give it to Savannah?” 

James cast a look about the room in anger. “He’s right. This is insane. I’m not playing games while my daughter’s missing. Find her!” He stormed to the window, movements stiff and abrupt with the frustration of needing to do _something_ but not knowing what. Josh seemed no less upset, but he took a steadying breath and, with a nod to Neal, went to speak to his brother. They returned soon after. 

“What do you need to know?” Josh asked Neal. 

“Tell me about the anklet,” Neal said again. 

James shrugged uselessly. “It’s. . . there’s nothing to tell. It’s a bracelet that was too big so she wears it on her ankle.” 

“And when did she get it?” Neal prompted. 

“Three months ago, maybe four?” James said. “I didn’t pay it that much attention.” 

“Three.” Josh’s answer was certain. “I came to talk to Dad about. . . well, you,” he said to Josh. “It was after you and I had that big blowup when he was remodelling. It was lying on the table, waiting to be wrapped.” 

“Remodelling?” Neal seized on the word with enough energy that the other men’s eyes snapped to his. 

“Yeah,” said James. 

“This room,” said Josh with dawning comprehension. 

“Where? What _exactly_ did he change?” 

“He refinished the floor. And he added this little wall,” said Josh. 

“That’s it.” Neal strode to the wall addition and noted the photos on either side. His knocking rang hollow. “It’s in here.” Josh was about to swing at the wall with an antique music stand—which would have made Neal cringe had the situation not been so serious—when Neal’s phone rang and all motion froze. 

“Peter?” Neal answered. 

“We got her.” 

Neal felt relief flooding through him and his smile sent Savannah’s father collapsing to the ground in relief. “Brett?” 

“In custody. He got shot it the arm, but nothing fatal.” 

“And Peter, I think we found it.” 

“Really?” 

“I’ll let you know in a couple minutes.” Neal inclined his head to the wall addition. “Gentlemen, shall we?” 

Through the noise of breaking gyprock, Neal heard one of the FBI agents in the other room call out, “Hey, I found a little bracelet. Clasp is broken. This the one you’re looking for?”

end


End file.
